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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150169">sleeping dogs lie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyTaboo/pseuds/SimplyTaboo'>SimplyTaboo</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinSmith/pseuds/SinSmith'>SinSmith</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>flesh of the servant [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Positive, Body Worship, Bottom Sirius Black, Canonically Fat character, Choking, Cock Slut, Come Swallowing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Desperation Play, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub Undertones, Dorms, Feelings Realization, Gay, Good Peter Pettigrew, Hogwarts, Humiliation, Light BDSM, Love Confessions, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Men Crying, Mildly Dubious Consent, Peter is fat and Sirius is into it, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Play, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Slut Shaming, Spit As Lube, Spit Kink, Under-negotiated Kink, Unhealthy Relationships, Uniform Kink, Young Peter Pettigrew, messy blow job, top Peter Pettigrew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:07:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,530</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyTaboo/pseuds/SimplyTaboo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinSmith/pseuds/SinSmith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Upset about his reputation, it's been months since Sirius touched anyone or himself. </p><p>Peter Pettigrew might just ruin his streak.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sirius Black &amp; Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black/Peter Pettigrew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>flesh of the servant [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Peter Pettigrew Smutfest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sleeping dogs lie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a sequel to 'under the stands', the prior work in the series, but it can also stand alone. </p><p>My single-minded mission to bring Peter Pettigrew back into the Marauders Era fandom continues, and this time I've brought a friend!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter and Sirius had a secret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was- just like that. It felt exclusive. It had set heavy in Peter's ribs for weeks, something forbidden and secret and rotten and delicious. He felt like the Worm in the Apple, if you believed in that sort of thing. Every time someone asked him what was going on with Sirius, thrills down his spine that was better than- well. Better than a lot of things, anyway. It wasn't necessarily a sexual thrill but- god if there wasn't something to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius wasn't himself. He hadn't been in weeks now. Marlene had asked him to sneak off at Hogsmeade and he politely turned her down, Remus wanted his help patrolling the halls and he'd gone to bed early. Even Regulus had noticed and made a polite, subtle inquiry towards his brother's well being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius didn't know what to do, since all he had done was stop sleeping with anyone who asked. Or...anyone, really. And god, it would be nice to give in and just drag someone into an alcove and get on his knees, but he was trying to prove a point. But not even wanking...that had been him proving it to himself. He wasn't a slave to his animal instinct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He threw the door open to the dorm with a bang, flopping face first onto his bed. Someone had made a comment, something that shouldn't bother him on any other day. Sirius Black didn't care when people called him a slut. But today it was grating his skin, making his hair stand on end, making him red in the face and his heart feel stuck in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the middle of the day, he had class in twenty, but he was going to skip it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oi. Someone let a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mutt</span>
  </em>
  <span> into the dorm again. He's going to get the bedsheets all mangy..." Peter  was fast on his heels, and he whined to an imaginary audience, feigned nonchalance an impressive feat as he walked over to his bed and hoisted his bag onto it, back to Sirius. He’d heard the fight, of course, there was little he didn’t see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius felt his temper rise, turning on his side to keep his back to Peter. This was all the blond's fault anyway. He's the one who made him think about it, he's the one who connected the dots Sirius hadn't been able to see. He grabbed a pillow. Clutched it tight to his chest and sank his teeth into the soft give of fabric and down feathers. He could feel the growl rumbling in his chest, barely audible but unable to contain it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted a fight, but he wanted to fuck more. Both needs ran through him at once and he should be praised for not giving in to them. Instead he'd been mocked for it, still called a slut even though he hadn't touched anyone- himself included- in more than a month. His leg bounced in irritation as he listened to Peter move about the dorm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shouldn't you be in fucking transfiguration?" He snapped, voice still muffled into the pillow he clutched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Class doesn't start for twenty, mate. Why, you need the room?" Peter dropped, casually, as if he had no idea that Sirius had stopped hooking up with any of them. The girls dormitory talked, and they loved gossiping with Peter- or in earshot of Peter, anyway. The shorter boy didn't turn just yet to Sirius, instead rifling through his things, taking off his outer robe and hanging it for a minute and just stretching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched Sirius out of the corner of his eye as he huffed against the pillow, giving it another solid, crushing squeeze before tossing it away. He sat up, frenzied and wide-eyed. But, there was a flush to his cheeks, and his bottom lip was swollen from chewing at it.  And it was terrible, wicked, awful-  but that same sick, delighted twist in his stomach had come back at seeing Sirius all... Conflicted like that. Due to their secret, the doubt he'd planted grown into some awful sprout. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt guilty. Truly, he did- but he hadn't yet figured a way out of it and it felt like... like hearing Frank and Alice in fifth year in the dorms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean, it's fine if you need a wank or something. All you have to do is say." The boy continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius’ grey eyes were blown out and wild, too. Like a caged dog rearing for a fight. "Fuck off, Peter!" He barked, unable to hold in his fraying nerves and flaming temper. Peter looked at him in earnest only when he shouted; Sirius looked half crazed, flushed and on edge. Fascinating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed, raising a brow and crossing his arms. "Fuck off...? Fuck off. Well that's what I was offering, innit....?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius felt it tingling under his skin, the urge to lung across the room and pin Peter to the wall, to sink his teeth into the plush curve of his hip, drag his hands over thick thighs, push those trousers down and get his mouth around-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brought the heels of his hands to press against his eyes, half groaning, half growling as he fell back against the mattress. "Ugh, shut it, that's not what I meant!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was fascinating to watch things churn behind Sirius' stormy grey eyes. He wanted to observe up close, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know what was going on in his head. But at the same time... That might be dangerous, given how tightly Sirius was wound. Pacing like a metaphorical lion in a cage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're the one telling me to fuck off for offering to leave. You want me to leave or not? Not sure what's gotten your knickers in a twist..." He lied, having every idea what was causing it. He couldn't resist, coming closer to Sirius' bed under the guise of kicking off his shoes. Stretching and rifling around, reaching his arms over his head and yawning. Sirius shifted, staying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He couldn't get the image out of his head, the way Peter's thick fingers would grip his hair, those teasing words egging him on- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt his cock press against his jeans, aching. He rubbed his hands over his face, exasperated and on edge. "Yes. No. I don't know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sirius Black, indecisive. Now I've seen everything." Peter chuckled, walking slowly closer with the intention to tease him; but really just wanting to make sense of his features. He dragged one hand over the four posts, half dangling from one as he made his way around the other boy's bed and looking over at him. Curiously noting the swell in the front of his slacks and then immediately pretending he hadn't looked, a touch of shame to it still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So how long </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> it been, then?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius opened one eye, looking up at Peter with his brows furrowed. His sun-kissed skin was flushed, telltale as much as the bulge in his pants that he was stalwartly ignoring. He could wring Peter's neck in that moment, the blond boy smirking down at him with those wide blue eyes. Like he didn't know it'd been damn near two months since he'd touched anything, anyone, or himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know how long it's been, you prat."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I honestly haven't the slightest idea. You think I've been keeping track?" Another lie. He had been, knew to the day when their rushed conversation had been; under the stands at the Slytherin Hufflepuff match. He'd wanted to touch him every day since but they hadn't- nobody had.  And maybe it was worth it to see him like this now, flushed and cracking at the seams. He wanted to dig his fingers into him, peel him apart. It made Peter lick his lips, swallow thick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Almost two months," he said, voice losing some of its edge. He let out a deep sigh, eyes scanning those soft, freckled features as they looked down at him. It made him want, want, WANT. He swallowed the lump in his throat, exhaling slow and closing his eyes. He just needed to calm down, it would pass like it had been passing. He could smell the familiar scent of Peter, soft and warm and absolutely mouth watering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mm. Must be hard on you. I'm impressed." Peter whistled through his teeth, still holding one of the posts, half dangling from it as he looked down at Sirius. He was sort of a clumsy boy, not particularly graceful, but there was a kind of charm to his settled, sturdy movements. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"... don't look at me like that, mate."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't look at you like what, exactly?" A sly smile, studying the boys face, letting his eyes drag down Sirius' body; all lean limbs and fitted uniform. Like a glove. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It happened faster than Sirius could really follow. He was moving before he could think about it, he'd reached up and grabbed Peter, the pair wrestling before Sirius pinned him to the bed. He threw his legs over Peter's hips, on top of him before he had time to catch his barings. Peter was no match for Sirius in reflex, even if he'd wanted to resist. Sirius straddled his hips and he grunted, shoulders forced back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like you want to- want to-" he shuddered, unable to finish the sentence before just crashing his lips against Peter's, bruising and desperate. Peter kissed him back immediately, too eager; his hands grabbing at Sirius' thighs behind the crook of his knee. Bit at his bottom lip, tugging him close and barely keeping back a whimper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's cause I do. Want to." He breathed against the other boy's mouth. "As do you, apparently. Couldn't keep your hands off me, huh?" Desperate hands tugged at Peter's clothes, pulling at his jumper and finding their way to press into warm flesh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"God, I need it, I couldn't stop thinking about-" he couldn't say it out loud, felt too much like giving him the upper hand. But he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Peter specifically. At first, he thought it was coincidence, just his mind fixating on the familiar. But, it had been Peter this whole time, wanting Peter, fantasizing about Peter.  Hearing Sirius say it made his chest ache, satisfying some deep seated need he hadn't known he'd had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt himself flush deep red, hands fumbling with the fastening of Peter's trousers. He moved to suck a bruise on the soft flesh of Peter's throat as he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just...I wanted to prove that I'm not..." Sirius said, and the softer of the pair lifted his jaw for the kiss, one hand sliding up into Sirius' hair, fingers digging into the thick black strands. Grabbing a fistful and tugging back. It was damned good to drop the charade, pretend he hadn't been jacking it most nights thinking about him; about tasting the long line of his throat, about the joint where thigh met hip met cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Prove that you're not ...? It's funny, cause I thought you were going to say 'not a slut' but... Uh. I think we can both tell that's not true."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those words washed over him, made him shudder into Peter's touch. It was complicated, the loathing he felt mixing with the heat that ran through him. He felt his eyes warm and wet at the corners, even harder and needier than before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No one else does this to me," he mumbled, his voice thick and raspy. His long fingers found Peter's cock, wrapping around it with a satisfied sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's not true, either. You're desperate for anyone who'll have you." Peter wanted Sirius to prove him wrong. Wasn't sure what was better, that he was just easy or that he was easy for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, specifically. His cock ached at the notion, and he couldn't resist a groan as Sirius stroked him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was almost like getting blasted with ice, like the world fell out from under him, made his throat tight, his brows knitting together. He couldn't pull away, not with Peter's fingers tight in his hair, the hand holding the crease of his knee, couldn't hide the way his expression shattered. Desperation took a backseat to pain he couldn't hide. He forced himself to swallow, forced his hand to keep moving, stroking Peter's cock until it was hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's just you, Peter," he said quietly, eyes shut with dark lashes fanned against his flushed cheeks. Lips brushed against his jaw and he shuddered. Seeing his friend suffering shouldn't... Really shouldn't... Have turned Peter on the way it did. <em>'It's just you, Peter.'</em> Wanted to hear him say it again and again. His cock jumped in Sirius' fingers, the grasp a little too tight, a little too brusque. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let his hand slide from his hair to the boy's cheek, cupping his jaw and brushing his thumb along his high, sharp cheek. Sirius turned into it, dragging his mouth along the soft curves of it absently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Prove it, then." His voice was more tenuous than his words, licking his lips and drinking in Sirius' expression. By the stars, he was gorgeous. It seemed impossible he was allowed to touch him, let alone- let alone-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In Sirius' mind, abstaining from everything was proof enough, but it wasn't, not really. Anything he did to show him would be met as proof that he was just a wanton whore, desperate for sensation, attention. It coiled in him, tight and hot and painful, not knowing how to express this in a way that mattered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Peter was right. He slipped down the other boy's body, trembling at the mix of pain and need in him. Sirius didn't hesitate to drag his lips over that thick cock, smearing bitter precum across his bottom lip with a soft sound. Grey eyes lifted up the curve of Peter's body, so wet and sparkling they nearly looked blue. Maybe this was all he was good for in the end. Sirius was trembling and gorgeous with need, grey eyes glistening and fuck- Peter wanted to wreck him. Wanted to make him come undone in every possible way and lace his tongue along the fissures. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter could feel the warmth of his blush, the heat of shame and desire. Blue eyes were keen and hungry, a set to his brows. It felt powerful, being able to make Sirius feel so strongly; to make him keen and whine and struggle like that. It was half the appeal, he supposed. Wondered, vaguely, with his sweater and shirt rucked up and his cock in Sirius' fist, if that made him a terrible person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good boy." He murmured, propping himself up on sturdy elbows so he could watch Sirius over the swell of his stomach. His tongue darted out to taste him, that warm, bitter, heady taste that was just Peter. Familiar and all encompassing.  The pretty, proud, brash Gryffindor, Noble House of Black, was desperate and trembling for it and it made Peter growl, breath hitching. "Have you missed that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Sirius groaned. That 'yes' was heavenly. Just as good or better than the hot drag of Sirius' tongue along his cock. The black haired Pureblood sucked cock like he loved it, like he was made for it. Silken lips, swallowing him down; he slid his hand into Sirius' dark hair and grabbed a fistful. Black pulled his tongue along sensitive skin, over the ridges at the head, over the sensitive cluster of nerves, reverent and grateful. He loved it, loved Peter's thick cock almost as much as he loved how the boy used it, how it could fuck him out just right. Sirius took it into his mouth like he was savoring it, red lips stretched wide, almost aching at the corners to fit it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it reached his throat, he sputtered, felt himself gag and cough. Something that never happened, not to him. A cruel voice in his head told him he was out of practice. The noise alone was enough to make Peter bite his lip, grabbing at him desperately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fucking hell- since when do you choke, Pads? Been too long, has it? Maybe I should strap you down, throat full of cock til you stretch back out." He ran his mouth, rolling his hips up into Sirius' waiting lips and throat. Drank in the sight of him, grey eyes damp, throat bobbing against his length, spit slick on his stretched lips</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius choked again, his throat spasming as Peter fucked into his mouth. He reflexively tried to pull back a touch, but those thick fingers grabbed his hair, desperately held him in place. He groaned, the sound cutting off with another sputtering cough, messy as spit was forced past his lips, making him as messy as he felt. The flush darkened across his face, the tears that had brimmed his eyes spilling down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a while since he felt that rush, the way his body recoiled and gagged. So long since he had been held there, unable to adjust himself for the discomfort. It had been a long time since he wanted it, too. Something about the visceral lack of control making him moan into his own coughs, hips arching against nothing, rutting into his jeans like a dog in heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter knew, intellectually, that Sirius could stop him if he wanted to. He could pull away, force himself free, overpower Peter trivially- but he didn't. And it felt visceral, powerful, like he was forcing Sirius onto his cock;  groaning and sputtering and delicious. It felt so good, the boy’s throat tight and spasming around him, burying himself in that slick heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius was losing himself in it, in the sounds that fell from Peter's lips, in that thick cock forcing itself in and out of his throat, deeper than was comfortable. Each spasm of his throat, each wet choke around Peter's cock made his heart race.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuuuuck..." Wormtail breathed, a low shuddering noise. His skin was hot, too hot, under his sweater and clothes- a pink flush spreading down his freckles cheeks and neck, over his bare thighs. And Sirius- fucking hell, Sirius was grinding into nothing, all desperation and helpless and wanton- He didn't even have a hand on Peter's cock, his hip, nowhere he could affect how the boy used him. Instead long fingers clung to the plush flesh of his thighs, gripping into the softness over muscle. His hips arched, pressing his achingly hard cock against the line of his pants- God, he was still in his uniform. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter's fantasies never quite lived up to just how impossible Sirius was in person. He wanted him so badly it hurt- a sharp pain in his ribs, longing like a missing organ. Even when they were this close. Especially when they were this close. He sounded so good, delicious and slick, and each drag along his length, the spasm of his throat around his head, was just... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"God, you're good. Fucking made for this." A low, rough moan; thrusting into his mouth again and again. "You love it, don't you. Gonna get off from that, just from sucking cock?" Peter continued, shoving him back roughly, off the side of the crimson twin bed; he wanted Sirius on his knees, fuck the consequences if someone should walk in and see them. He fell gracelessly, separated from Peter as he gasped for air, eyes wide as he looked up at the blond. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wha- what I thought- I thought you wanted-" his voice was thick, hoarse and wet and stammering. He looked frayed at the edges, but frightened as he came back to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter probably could have been kinder, but he liked the sudden scramble- liked the way he just looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead of proud or indignant. Scared of what? Ah. That Peter was saying no. Sirius was unraveling and Peter wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>eat</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. Because he worshipped him and because he couldn't have him and because he looked so goddamn pretty with tears on his cheeks. He could have made him beg for it. But maybe that would be a step too far. The trick was nothing irreparable. Nothing Sirius didn't need him to repair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do." He swiped his thumb over Sirius' bottom lip, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed on either side of him and drawing his head up again. "Wanted you just like this." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius could feel the tension slump out of him at those words. Sirius leaned into it, freckles continuing to the backs of his hands, feeling the heat there, smearing spit and precum against his lips; tears had run down Sirius' cheeks and he watched that, too, covetously. They held each other's eyes and Peter felt his heart flip-drop-ache, brows drawing up in something that was part reverence part pain. God. No one made him </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>things the way Sirius did. James was too solid, too good and whole- loving him was like loving an icon, a saint. And Remus was a friend- a confidant and companion. But Sirius- Sirius was like a young god. Messy and fragile and all the more beautiful for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius parted his lips, almost reflexively, letting Peter's thumb play with his mouth, run along his slick tongue, brush over the metal barbell that was pierced through it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That had even been Peter's idea, a dare, seeing how far Sirius would be willing to let Peter push him. Two large tears slipped down his cheeks as he was drawn back to the hard cock in front of him, and Sirius couldn't- wouldn't pull his gaze away from Peter's.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn't sure if it was the right move, but deep inside he wanted this. He wanted to give Peter as much control as the heavier boy craved, wanted to show him somehow that this wasn't because he couldn't help himself. Sirius shifted for him, like a dog at heel; thighs spread in his uniform, hard cock outlined through his tight slacks vulgarly. Still wearing his tie and vest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Long arms moved behind his own back, clasping his wrists- such an act of submission it made Peter's breath hitch, blue eyes blown wide- as he took Peter's cock back into his mouth, into his throat, gagging when it slid too deep, but not pulling back.  Peter let him hear him moan in earnest, his eyes rolled up in pleasure. "That's good- nnn."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Praise settled deep in him, soothing something he didn't know ached. He worked his mouth over that thick cock, trying to keep his eyes open when he could, despite gagging and coughing and making an unholy mess of himself. Fingers tightened around his tie, using it to keep him close, to keep Peter buried in the spasming, wet tightness of his throat and Sirius groaned. It was too tight now, tugged to discomfort, making it even harder for him to breathe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, it heightened it, made his head swim and his body feel weightless and a million tons all at once. He kept swallowing around Peter's cock, trying to get his body to remember this sensation, the violation of it that was specific to Peter. He was still crying, tears stinging his eyes, his cheeks so red he felt on fire, but all of that didn't matter compared to the beautiful way Peter fucked into him, the way those blond lashes fanned against soft, freckled cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, neither of them had bothered to take off their uniforms, his jumper was already wet with spit as it dripped past his lips, and he could feel precum smeared on the inside of his pants. The tie was silk, a stupid expense his parents had afforded in his first year. The stains would never come out, much like how he felt, like he'd never get the bruising, aching feeling if Peter's cock out of his throat, or the way that silk tie tugged so tight against his skin, like a leash to train a guard dog.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter had known, since they started, he wouldn't last long. It had been too long since they'd fooled around, and frankly, very few of the other boys their year appealed to him. It all paled in comparison to this; the heat of Sirius' mouth around him, the line of that lean body pressed into his legs. Noble, brave, desired, Pureblood rebel who'd spat in the face of all that- brought to heel because he so desperately wanted to be used. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was too good. He could feel Sirius straining, feel his throat stretch and Adam's apple bob, skin reddening as he choked; spit coating his chin. A careful thumb slid the knot tighter, made it so he couldn't breathe at all, his vision blurring as more tears slipped from his lashes. His throat strained, spasming as Peter's thrusts got more erratic, intense, made his head spin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck. I'm close. You'll be a good slut and swallow it for me, yeah? Every drop." He murmured, groaning as his thrusts went ragged; releasing his grip as he came with a heady moan, vision spinning white as he bit his bottom lip, whole body shuddering. Sirius’ cock jumped in his pants as Peter murmured for him, called him a slut and made him take it down, moaning as he came down his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn't quite swallow right, his throat too full and tie too tight, but he tried, he trembled and shook as he worked to swallow every drop that was given, even as he sputtered around the cock buried in his throat as Peter rode his orgasm out. His vision was blurred but he kept his eyes open, watching that round freckled face flush, watching Peter bite his lip as his cock pulsed in Sirius' mouth. Some come spilled past his tongue, felt it dribble past his lips, knew it would join the spit stains ruining the fucking silk tie. He'd clean it up too, if Peter wanted him to, suck it clean and lick anything spilled gratefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter felt high, shuddering with pleasure that flooded down to his fingertips; he could hear, feel, Sirius gasping and gagging and trying to swallow; he pulled free slow, still in a bit of a haze as he tugged loose the knot, grateful for once that it was a normal Windsor knot and not some pretentious Pureblood nonsense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, he was close too, but he hadn't moved, didn't want to until he was allowed. The dark haired boy was trembling through his whole body, gasping for air and flushed, entire body like a live wire. He was so turned on the fibers of his clothes ached his skin. Those wet grey eyes stared up at Peter, looking lost and desperate, more tears spilling from them as he shook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he was sure Sirius wouldn't pass out on their dorm room floor, he took his own heaving breath, rubbing his fingers along the reddened skin of the boy's throat as if he could soothe the hurt there.  Sirius shuddered when those warm hands soothed against the sore line of his throat, certain that it would bloom into a nasty looking bruise. A thumb pressed against his swollen lip, and Sirius wrapped his mouth around it softly, reverently, obediently. He slowly worked his tongue around it, despite still shaking, still so strung out it was a miracle he could think.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Look at you. We've made a right mess of you, haven't we." Pettigrew hummed, watching as cum and spit and tears were slick on his face. "You alright?" He asked, finally, meeting Sirius' eyes with a touch of concern; he was still half-hard and didn't doubt he'd get going again, given half a chance. "You deserve a treat, hm, for being so good? Come up here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made his heart flip, ache, and he nodded. Only Peter could tease him for being like this, a depraved slutty mess, and still look at him so caring and soft. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please," he managed to murmur, voice hoarse and thick as he fumbled, shaking and aroused, onto the bed, half into Peter's lap like an overgrown dog. His hands found their way to Peter's hips, sliding under the hem of his shirts that had been mussed before, trailing over soft, dimpled skin. Peter blushed  as Sirius' hands made his shirt ride up; pudgy soft skin against tattooed forearms. He was self-conscious, rarely allowed this with the lights on and completely undressed for that reason alone. He'd seen the rest of them naked, he wasn't about to compete. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no clue what Peter had in store for him, but he didn't care. Too much trust radiated from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's not exactly an answer, is it?" He goaded gently, lifting the other boy's chin. He was shorter than Sirius, notably, thicker and softer, but managed to hold him easily enough. A small smile tugged at his lips, grey eyes still blown wide and wet, body still trembling with desire. But, one brow lifted, sarcastic and handsome like himself, and his voice, hoarse and quiet slipped past his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'd answer more eloquently, but you might've destroyed my larynx," his words died out, and he swallowed thickly against the ache of talking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can still be a prat, so I'm going to take that to mean you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Trousers off, on all fours, Pads."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sitting back and breathing heavy from his own climax Peter just luxuriated for a moment as Sirius did what he was told. Long fingers squeezed against soft flesh for a moment before moving to fumble with his trousers, hands shaking as he managed to get them off, kicked to the floor along with his shoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bent onto hands and knees, achingly hard cock and all. Laying next to Sirius, he drank in those pretty, messy features; his long black hair that was always thick and luminous was a disaster and he tossed it over one shoulder, cock achingly hard against the dip of his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm." Peter hummed for a moment, appraisingly, before sitting up; pushing his shirt up a bit so he could kiss at his lower back, the curve of his ass; muttering a simple scouring charm- Sirius hissed when the spell washed over him- before kissing lower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter's tongue slid over his entrance and Sirius groaned, cock jumping at the sensation. His hands gripped the sheets. He wanted to say something, playful and sarcastic as he usually did, but he was so strung out he couldn't focus. Instead he just whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You might be good at taking cock, Sirius, but if I do you dry you'll regret it." Playful, deliberately misinterpreting Sirius' trembling, his moaning and stretching. The shorter boy didn't pause nor beg permission, wrapping one arm around Sirius' thigh, holding him in place- dragging his tongue over his entrance teasingly, toying at the tight ring of muscle with the tip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a filthy act and Peter relished it. Made you wonder who, exactly, was the easy one between them. He tugged him closer, moaned into it, buried in his skin as he ate him out- making vulgar noises, body pressed into the boy's trembling legs and the way he groaned against him. The sensation of tightening and opening against his lips and tongue, slick and vulnerable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the point had just been to slick him so he could fuck him, Peter would've gotten to it faster. But the blond boy seemed to relish it, devouring him like a delicacy, and it sent shivers down Sirius' spine. It made his head spin. His cock twitched, precum beading at the tip, making him groan and shudder as Peter groaned against his entrance, virgin tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck, Pete, you're gonna make me come like this..." He moaned, burying his flushed face against the sheets, biting the plush of the mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A low chuckle was Peter's only response; a satisfied noise as he reached around his thigh, grabbing his cock with one fat fist. Pumping him slowly as his tongue violated the tight ring of muscles; pressing past it, inside him before lathing at the sensitive skin, exploring what coaxed the best noises from Sirius. He savored the sensation of Sirius' intimate parts, of making him moan and tremble like a virgin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must have been once, after all. Wondered, vaguely, how many of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>firsts</span>
  </em>
  <span> he'd had- taken- been given- over the years.  Maybe someday he’d find out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no direction from Peter, no orders not to come specifically, but they'd fooled around enough times who was to say how he'd react. Hot fingers worked Sirius' prick, down his length as he pulled away with a deep breath; biting at the flesh of the boy's ass. It made him growl against where he bit the mattress, his hips rocking into the sensation, losing himself as he fucked into Peter's hand, between the sensation of his mouth and his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Peter was working lower; dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin between his thighs and down to his balls, mouthing one shamelessly. Because he wanted to. And because he wanted to see what Sirius would do which was his favorite part of the game. Pettigrew wanted to fuck him so badly he was already half hard just from rimming him- but he could wait. He was good at waiting. The wet heat of that sinful tongue teased his skin, the soft flesh of his thighs, warm lips mouthing over his balls, making them draw tight and sensitive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whimpered at that sensation, too much and pushing him over the edge, thrusting into Peter's warm hand as he came over those fingers, thick and hot, for the first time in weeks. It trembled through his whole body, made his back arch, made his toes curl as he panted for his breath before he melted into aftershocks. His thighs trembled but kept his hips up, knew better than to collapse, knew Peter was far from done with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A low moan against his skin as Sirius came; he could feel the boy's body tense against him, feel his entrance tighten around his tongue as he licked at him- not pausing until the trembling stopped, til he could feel the cum dripping down his fingers and over the crimson dormitory bed sheets. They'd seen worse, all things considered, and he wasn't going to spend time fretting about cleanliness and house points now. Because Black was whimpering and trembling and wet for him; arching and curling and- god was there ever a prettier sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Coming just from getting your arsehole done over? That's new. Next it'll be coming in your slacks just from dirty talk." He teased, because he couldn't resist. "You're so fucking wet for me you can't stand it, huh?" The blonde boy was flushed and vulgar behind him, lips slick as he freed his hand from the other's cock, drawing it to his mouth and licking it clean- bitter and salty  and burned into his memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius felt boneless, wet and panting, lithe body pliant as Peter teased him. It brought heat to his cheeks, but made him smile, glancing over his shoulder to watch the vulgar sight of Peter licking his fingers clean. God, he just came and he was still half-hard, needed Peter to fuck him so badly he couldn't function. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, grey eyes still fixated on watching Peter's freckled face, flushed and soft and wicked. "I need it, Pete," he said, voice still hoarse and heady, "I've been dreaming of riding your cock for weeks. Please."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You just came and you're already begging for cock? You must be really desperate, huh?" Peter coaxed him, spitting onto his open hole, pushing in a finger or two to make sure he was ready- the last thing they needed was a trip to the infirmary for something as stupid as buggering. They'd been doing it long enough, they should practically be experts by now. (In fact, a young Michael Creevey had gone so far as to ask him for </span>
  <em>
    <span>advice</span>
  </em>
  <span> the year prior which had ended in hysterical laughter that the fifth year was still living down.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius' gaze was intense, even glowing and heady from climax. Peter paused to pull off his sweater; too hot for this little room, still mostly clothed and just looking at Sirius- half naked and trembling and looking like a young god. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look at you. You're impossible." He muttered, under his breath, and it somehow sounded like a good thing coming from him. Traced his hand down Sirius' back, his thigh; then coughed, shaking himself from reverence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right. Move over, then." Twin beds weren't the </span>
  <em>
    <span>easiest</span>
  </em>
  <span> things to fuck in, but they managed; Peter sitting back against the headboard and then just looking at Sirius- not instructing, not directing, just wanting to see what he would do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lightning fast, Sirius was on top of him, throwing one long leg over plush thighs. He was desperate, though a little off balance from the way his legs shook. Peter was just as desperate, even having already come once; he fell onto his back, laughing as Sirius mounted him. One hand moved behind him, lining up Peter's cock before sinking onto it without hesitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a pained, strangled sound, his hips arching as he speared himself open, virgin tight and twitching around Peter's cock. He didn't care, didn't give himself time to adjust, just set his hips to moving. Peter sank into heat, so tight that it made him whimper; along with Sirius' delicious noises, the pain spread over his beautiful features, the arch of those slit dark brows.  His face was still flushed from his own orgasm, but his brows knit together in a pain that he had nearly forgotten. When he opened his eyes, all he could do was focus on Peter's face, gray eyes with pupils blown wide taking in the soft freckles, the plush lips, those blue eyes that were so smart with their cunning and their mischief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bloody hell.. you're so tight." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was true. So good it hurt, so good he wanted to bury his cock inside him and just live there. He wanted more, wanted it to never stop. He stared at Sirius with reverence because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> reverent, amazed that even for a moment he could have this, touch him, have him, share this with him. Maybe he was lucky after all. Since he hadn't done anything to deserve it, and he'd been a right prick to Sirius and- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius couldn't speak, words just didn't work, and instead he opted to crash his mouth, wanton and needy, against Peter's with a groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kissing again, heady, and Peter growled; grabbing Sirius' hips and forcing his way up into him. Sirius cried out against Peter's lips, somewhere between a sob and a moan as the blond grabbed his hips, driving his cock up into him. It made his head spin, body still catching up from having just come. This was what he needed, this filled the void that was always inside him; this creaky four poster bed, this familiar room, and Peter holding his hips, Peter's lips under his, Peter fucking into him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forgetting it all, the complicated, messy parts. There was nothing messy about the way their bodies fit together. About the way Sirius clung to him, kissed him, rode his cock like he'd die if he did anything else. The jealous, nasty parts of him wanted it forever, consequences be damned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Were you this tight the first time a bloke fucked you, I wonder?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those words curled into his mind and the memories were so vivid. Fifth year, behind the broom shed, hastily and frantic. He'd done other stuff with blokes before, but he'd never let a guy fuck him. He hadn't said he was new at it, hadn't admitted it, and still felt like he couldn't. The urge to tell the truth, to quip </span>
  <em>
    <span>'I don't know, was I?'</span>
  </em>
  <span> disappeared almost as soon as it entered his head, the memories of Peter fucking him behind the shed blending with the sensation of now. He'd tell him one day, but he couldn't be that vulnerable now. Not with Peter, not with anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He settled for snaking one hand under Peter's mussed shirt, holding onto his soft flesh as he rode him. "Fuck, you're breaking me apart," he said, because that's how it felt, speared open too hard and too fast and just right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hnngh..." Peter let out a groan, deep from his chest. They'd been stupid, no muffling charms this time, no efforts not to get caught. Sirius was moaning, sobbing, clinging to him; wanting him exactly like that. He knew his body by now, knew how to coax him into a desperate mess. He felt good at it- felt like this might be something he was actually good at. And it was even better, how tight he was, how eager to please, how bad he wanted it. Worth the months apart if it meant... If it meant having him like this. All to himself, for once, rather than an afterthought after whoever he'd rather be fucking was busy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That thought made him hiss, and he grabbed Sirius hips tighter; sliding his arm around him in a near embrace, guiding him, taking him; forcing him harder, faster, the angle that he wanted him. Shameless, broken words spilled over those pretty lips. The pace made that stretch burn more, that ache radiate through him just as good as the sensation of Peter's cock filling him up and slamming into that spot inside him that made his vision blur. He loved Peter's cock, felt like he was built for it, like they fit together so perfectly no one else's compared. Pettigrew exhaled, biting his bottom lip; allowing, for now, Sirius' hands sliding under his shirt, the paunch of his stomach, the warmth of skin on skin. His mouth twisted, looking up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to break you apart. Make you remember who-" he couldn't quite finish the sentence, too embarrassed, shy, something. Instead he just thrust up into him rougher, angling his hips before yanking Sirius up; holding him there, before forcing him to take it all at once again. His own cock was hard again now, twitching against his stomach as he moved, as he whimpered at Peter's choked off words. He wanted that choked off sentence, wanted to break down the barrier that always existed between them, but he never knew how.  Filling Sirius’ tight passage, savoring the drag, the burn. "Fucking hell..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand pressed into Peter's skin grabbed firmer, wondering vaguely if he could crawl inside his chest, curl up in his ribcage and finally wrap his greedy, selfish hands around that guarded heart. It wasn't fair to want it, it's not like he even had a heart to offer in return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ruin me, Peter," he begged, voice a desperate sob, "I'm such a slut for you, ruin me, please." Those thick fingers held his hips still before Peter thrust up into him rougher, forcing Sirius to take every thick inch of his cock, pushing a feral, howling cry from his lips, tears sliding from his grey eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius was sobbing and he was so loud- he was certain the rest of the dorm could hear them, would know what was happening instead of class and he couldn't be bothered to care. Let them know he was fucking Sirius Black, making him cry out like a bitch in heat. It gave him a sense of bitter, jealous pride; that welled up inside him whenever Sirius came to him. Darkened only a little by how he knew there were dozens of others, likely. That's why he was so mean to him, obviously, had to be. Not all the time, he was a good friend he was- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was part of the game they played. Sirius never seemed to mind for long. And it made this- made this so much better. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Fucking hell."</span>
  </em>
  <span> He demanded his mouth again, one rough kiss, all tongue and teeth; then he pushed Sirius onto his back. He went willingly, happily, content to give whatever Peter wanted from him</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to see you. Fucked out and ruined, yeah? Stretched out so good for me." Peter growled and maybe it sounded silly, coming from a freckled, awkward, nervous Gryffindor boy- but he didn't feel awkward when they were like this. It felt like power, shoving Sirius' long legs up so he was nearly folded in half. Hoisting his hips against his thighs so Sirius could see it, could see the filthy place where thick cock speared him open, how his pretty pink hole clung to him each time Peter thrust inside of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held his legs, rough, mouth twisted up in concentration, sweating and determined as he finally met Sirius' eyes, thrusting into him again and again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt deeper like this, and his blown-out grey eyes looked down his body, down mussed and messy shirt, hard cock laying against his stomach and saw where Peter thrust into him, watching and feeling that thick cock press into him at the same time. Sirius groaned, hands moving to brace against rounded, freckled shoulders as he looked up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter was...glorious like this. The nervousness that usually plagued him was nowhere to be seen as he held Sirius open, drove into him with such force and abandon it made his soft, freckled cheeks flush, golden curls stuck to his temples. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to say it, wanted to say the feelings that ached through him out loud, but his heart felt caught in his throat.  He knew it was plain as day across his face, grey eyes too open and wet at the corners, cheeks flushed, lips parted. When Peter's bright blue eyes looked up at him, determined and intense and focused on him, Sirius' fingers tightened their grip on his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Say it again, Peter, please," he begged, "tell me I'm good for you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Sirius looked at him like that, he always felt speared open- and he wasn't sure how he could feel so vulnerable when he was the one in control, when it was his hands on Sirius' body, his cock inside him, his thumbs bruising his skin. Those grey eyes were too bright, too wide and earnest; and he felt like a bug pinned in place. Twitching and scrutinized and caught. But he couldn't make himself look away, couldn't, wouldn't, stop- even as it made his chest ache, wanting he couldn't put a name on overwhelming him. They acted like it was just sex but maybe it was more than that, for him- not for Sirius, though, and that was the part that burned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That he could look like that and then- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter swallowed thickly, something ugly and jealous twisting inside him; and he channeled it into a rougher thrust; the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room, grunts and moans and slick, vulgar noises when Peter pushed inside of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the moment that happened with Peter that was a double edged sword. Those bright, blue eyes were focused on him and open and raw and perfect, exactly what he needed, what he wanted to express, and then it shifted. Something unreadable flashed in Peter's gaze, something that made Sirius feel too far away from that soft, freckled face. But everytime it happened, Peter thrusted into him harder, gripped him tighter, and it felt so good he couldn't focus. He wanted to claw back to moments before, to soak in the warmth and closeness of a gaze now gone, but his nerves were traitorous as the thick cock inside he relentlessly pounded into him, pressed again and again into the spot that made Sirius' mouth fall open, made his thighs tremble, made him see stars behind his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy below him was messy and model-gorgeous, like something from a magazine- long black hair a mess, looking at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. Licked his lips at Sirius' request, tossing his head a little, damp blonde curls moving out of his eyes as he peered down at him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Tell me I'm good for you.’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You love that, don't you? Bet I could get you to come just by telling you how good you are, how pretty, how well you take it- that you feel perfect around me, so incredibly tight- like you were made for this." Peter hummed, flushing a little- he couldn't quite look at Sirius while letting his mouth run, the anxiety that ate away at him driven back by lust and control and an eagerness to please, to live up to the challenge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're so good for me, Pads. Wet and willing and obedient and beautiful-" Alright, maybe he fell off the target there a little, but it was hard while he was fucking into him, holding off his own climax yet again. "And what do good boys get, mm?" He teased, pressing his forehead into SIrius' knee, nuzzling there as he peeked up at him from under blonde lashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter was addictive, agony and wonder all at once, ripping him apart and holding him together at the same time. Distance and intimacy all wrapped in so much lust Sirius couldn't think. Peter mumbled for him, spoke words that made him shiver, and Sirius' grip on those rounded, freckled shoulders tightened. He was so close, so very close and those filthy words made his vision blur enough that he almost couldn't feel the desperate ache in his chest when Peter looked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that teasing question and the warm press of the heated forehead to his knee forced his orgasm out of him, so intense one of his hands flew to grab at his own cock as it jumped because he had to touch it, something had to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watching Sirius Black come - no, making him come - was one of the most magnificent things Peter had ever seen. Every time, he wanted to drink it in; relive it over and over again. Perhaps because it came with the threat that, eventually, he must, must, realize that Peter didn't deserve him and he'd stop coming around. But in the meantime, it was the most wonderful trick, the cleverest prize. Because it meant, buried inside him; holding onto his thighs so hard they'd bruise, slamming into him again and again, angling his hips just right- that he got to watch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes wrenched shut and he cried out, a howl and a moan at once as it seared through him. He felt himself clench so tight around Peter's cock, felt his thighs tense, felt his toes curl and his back arch. It spilled over him, coming in hot, thick spurts that shot up his shirt, over his jumper, his ruined tie, some even landed on his flushed throat and his messy, tangled hair. Sirius wasn't sure if he'd ever come that hard in his life, and it seemed to last an entire lifetime before he erupted in shivers and shuddering breaths, body twitching and clenching around Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watched as Sirius' back arched, as he tensed; as those lips parted, a glint of sangria-rich tongue and sharp white teeth, brows drawn between pleasure and pain; his throat bob, pulse throbbing in his neck, everything focused on this and them and Peter- it was so good he made himself just watch, just drink it in. It was the pride, more than anything, that pushed him over the edge- better than the sensation in some ways. For a moment, he was a part of that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A deep satisfaction that the practice had paid off; that he knew exactly what Sirius liked by now. "Bloody hell-" He cursed, biting his lip. "Say my name, Pads." He tried to make it all imperious, to keep the desperation out of it, but he didn't quite succeed. It was a crapshoot with Sirius like this anyway- whether he'd play along or tell him to fuck off. Hoped it was the former, biting back his own climax for just a moment longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius was still in it, still riding out his orgasm as he obeyed, brain barely catching up. He needed to listen, to follow a command, even when he was riding out his pleasure, he needed to be good. "Peter~" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It drew it out, made his head spin, and all he could do was gasp Peter's name over and over, his body reduced to a trembling, twitching mess as Peter moved inside him, drawing his peak out longer than he thought possible. His vision whited out, all points of light and sparks before his eyes focused on Peter again, on those intense blue eyes. He was a mess, boneless and trembling, and he managed to push himself up just enough to press his lips against Peter's, open and hot and wild, brief as he pulled back to let out a whimpering moan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thrusts grew erratic, chasing his own selfish pleasure- so much better that Sirius wanted it, was coaxing it out of him; was kissing him like that was all he wanted. He could believe it, could bury himself in the heat. Their bodies were close, slick, too hot; he let the fire of Sirius' kiss sear him, words groaned into the curve of his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Peter, please, I need it, I love when you fill me up," he muttered, voice hoarse and desperate. He felt words he was too afraid to say bubbling in his chest, how much he cared, how if he asked, Sirius would forsake everyone else in the world for this, with Peter, only Peter. He muffled himself by kissing the blond boy again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck, Sirius..." He ran his hands up Sirius' sides, feeling his gorgeous, flushed skin under his hands; the begging, the moaning too much for him. It was overwhelming, the sensation, the desperation, the gravity well that was Sirius Black- inescapable. Pleasure so hot it ached, making him hiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"God, yes, that's so good- fuck. Fuck!"  Peter was usually quiet when he came, a small groan or a hiss as he bit his lips to stay silent. But this, this was real magic, the way he cursed, cried Sirius' name, held his skin so hard he'd wear the bruises for weeks and thrust into him so rough he felt like he was already broken apart. Sirius could die right then in the moment and it would've all been worth it because this was his, this was his Peter, no one else could have him like this. Another thrust, another, and then Pete was coming; hips stuttering and eyes rolled up, biting his bottom lip and letting out a shuddering whine against Sirius' mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt on fire as Pete spilled inside him, filling up inside that were aching and bruised and twitching for it. Sirius hurt down to his core, but he could take it, wanted to take that throbbing, burning pain for as long as possible if it meant keeping Peter like this. He was grunting and gasping as he slowed, finally, lingering for just a moment inside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Long, lanky legs wrapped around rounded hips, ankles locking to hold Peter there. He didn't want Peter to pull out, didn't want to lose this closeness yet. It was the only way he could get it, and he wasn't ready to lose it yet. Thick hands rested on mussed, wrecked bedsheets on either side of Sirius' ribs, and Peter was just staring down at his chest, not looking at him, not touching him beyond where his cock was still buried inside Sirius' sore, twitching hole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made Sirius' lip tremble, feeling something clench his stomach in knots. The weight of what this meant washing over him like a failure. He wrapped his arms around rounded shoulders, though his limbs were weak, trying to tug Peter on top of him, something, anything to close this gap between them. There was a touch of laughter from Peter, not wanting to crush him, which was a little silly considering how rough he'd just been with- the rest of him. But he'd never been good at saying no to Sirius, so down he went- pressed into his tattooed chest, nuzzling gently into his skin. Somehow, it wasn’t enough. How could the blond feel so far away while he was still inside him? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't pull out yet," he said, voice small and trembling as Sirius curled up towards Peter, wanted to wrap into him even though he knew what Peter saw when he looked down at him; flushed and fucked-out and filthy. Just an easy lay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter took heavy, shuddering breaths as he settled back into himself, focused on the sensation of it all. For one moment, feeling at home in himself- perfect pleasure, distraction, floating on it. He was still buried inside Sirius, and he was vaguely aware of the boy shifting underneath him; weak and fucked out and trembling. Peter settled onto him like a firm, safe weight, pinning him into the mattress. Felt solid, felt more real than he could manage. He buried his face into the mess of blond curls, eyes shut as he inhaled the scent of sweat and sex and Peter and tried to calm down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wha- don't-? Oh. Alright." He breathed into Sirius' chest, feeling him trembling- but something about the tone of his voice gave Peter pause. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He realized, too late, that Sirius was still shaking- that he sounded small and broken, and guilt churned in his stomach again. He couldn't make himself look at Sirius, couldn't make himself confront the hurt he'd caused- a coward through and through. But- but this was Sirius. Who he adored, and who he'd hurt- and enjoyed hurting. His mouth twisted a little and he swallowed, sliding a hand up along Sirius' chest; holding him and laying against him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever you like, Pads." Come on- piece it together, puzzle it out. Why was he so unbearably stupid sometimes? Had he been too cruel, had he injured him- no, then he wouldn't have wanted him to stay put- so it had to be something intangible. His pride? Then why on earth- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart was still racing, and he hurt down to the core, but he couldn't let go, couldn't deal with Peter pulling away from him. He let out a shuddering breath when he felt the bridge of Peter's nose nuzzle into his chest, right over one of the self-inflicted tattoos. This was good, this was close enough to stop the way his mind was spinning. He could handle the torrent of emotions, all the same ones he'd been feeling since he stormed out of Potions a solid hour ago, but the rage he usually hid it all behind had been stripped away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you alright?" Wormtail finally managed, uncertainly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But nothing escaped Peter, his clever, observant Peter, who could sniff out how he was feeling before he even figured it out himself. The grey eyed boy couldn't hold in a shuddering, pained little laugh, finally opening his eyes to stare at the canopy above them. At least this was on the bed and he wouldn't have gravel in his arse for days.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, swallowing thickly. He was vaguely aware that he was shaking, though, and his throat felt tight on top of the bruising pain he got every time he swallowed. He laughed again and brought the heel of one hand to press against his eyes, that felt too hot, on fire. "I'm fine....I just....shit, I really am a slag for you." His words caught in his throat and he brought both hands to press against his eyes, willing the torrent of emotions to stay inside and not brim over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...Couldn't even make it two months."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter let out a long breath, listening to Sirius' heartbeat- he was still shaking, his breath hitching like he was on the verge of sobs. This wasn't something he'd be able to ignore. Alright then. Pull it together. For Sirius. He could. He could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forced himself to look, lifting his wide eyes to study Sirius- the proud angle of his jaw, the way he swallowed and rubbed at his eyes. He was breaking down, like he did after being home sometimes, but this time it was Peter's fault. It had never been Peter's fault before. The horrible, wicked part of him felt possessive at the idea- but he squashed it down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't... I don't really think you're a slag. It's just..." Something I said. But he didn't want to lose the power of it, so he did some quick calculations. He was rarely selfless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"... I didn't go for two months either. If either of us is easy..." Peter teased, feeling it out- he didn't quite understand the shape of what Sirius was feeling. But then again, nobody would ever accuse him of something like that- he really only slept with Sirius and he'd sucked James off. People thought he'd done Reg, but that wasn't true, and he'd hooked up with Dorcas and one or two older boys- but that was it. Not so many people, really. And he just wasn't loud about it like Sirius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius laughed, bitter and deprecating as he shifted slightly, wrapping his arms around Peter again, tucking his heated face into the curve of his shoulder, against flushed freckled skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I threw myself at you, mate. You'd have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>." He felt his frantic heartbeat slow, soothed by the warmth of Peter against him, still connected. He swallowed thick, laughing at himself a little, refusing to release his hold on the soft, warm flesh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would not have been. I wanked off the very night you made your 'declaration'. And prolly every day since." Peter coaxed, trying to reassure him; he didn't admit how many of those times had been about Sirius, since that seemed too raw and real, and he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Pads was holding him; like a hug, now, they couldn't really pretend it was anything else.  He nosed into his neck and Peter blushed a little more, sliding his arms a bit tighter around him in response, under his back where it hit the sheets; trying not to let the self-consciousness set in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And what those girls were saying in potions got to me, and it shouldn't. What do I care what some Slytherin birds have to say about me?" He rubbed his nose against Peter's skin, inhaling the familiar scent, the mix of sweat and sex and skin that he loved, the smell of Peter that he wanted to roll around in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They think I'm a dog, and I am. But it's not like I've been scratching to get with anyone else."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know who you are, Pads. You've always known. Even when your family tried to tell you to be someone else. That's real bravery, right?" He tried, peeking up at him with timid blue eyes; fucked out, guilty, but earnest. He adored Sirius, had to try and be discreet about it now and again. Their eyes met and Peter tried his hardest not to duck his face and look away- it wasn't natural for him, but if he could look anyone in the eyes it should be Sirius. Who he'd just fucked, after all; gave him kind of a sheepish smile as Sirius stared at him. The boy's eyes were always so intense; it was like looking over the edge of a cliff and fighting the urge to jump. Every single time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius had always thought Peter was beautiful, the curve of his cheeks, the way his nose twitched when he smiled, the dusting of freckles, the gap between his teeth. It hit him, kind of blindsided him, when Peter's face scrunched before he spoke, why this had always felt so right, why Peter had occupied his mind more than anyone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But saying he was falling for his friend wasn't something he could do. It wasn't that he was ashamed or embarrassed, not really, he just....</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...Peter wouldn't believe him. So he settled for chuckling lightly, letting his legs unlatch from around the other boy and shifting so there was some space. Pete pulled a face; he was going soft inside him and it was a bit uncomfortable- and sticky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "Am I... allowed to pull out now, Pads?" He said with a cheeky grin. "Or is this some new </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> of yours?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nah, you can pull out,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chuckle rumbled against his chest, and the chubby boy smiled at that too, tucked up in a dimple in one cheek. "Thank you, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>lord.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Peter mocked just a bit; sliding loose real carefully, half wishing he could see the spend leak out of him- another time, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freed, Sirius leaned back enough to look down at himself- still in half his uniform, clothes wrinkled and messy and stained. "...How many house points do you think I'll lose for getting your spunk on my uniform?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lose house points?" Peter teased, using the joke as an excuse to lay back against Sirius, arms pressed against his chest. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lose </span>
  </em>
  <span>house points? Getting my spunk on your uniform falls solidly under 'perform admirable service for your housemates'." Peter's imitation of McGonagall was uncanny, right down to the pursed lips- and he laughed at his own joke afterwards, cheek pressed into his own arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Sirius' turn to wrinkle his nose in disgust, though he wrapped his arm around Peter's shoulders. "No no, none of that. I don't want to think about McGonagall condoning my cock sucking skills," he said, sticking his tongue out dramatically, barbell making a clicking sound against his teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She's so bloody competitive, she'll demand I give it out daily to every boy in our house so she can award seven thousand points to Gryffindor at the expense of my arse."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now</span>
  <em>
    <span> that </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be something to see..." Peter smirked, losing himself in the fantasy for a moment. Sirius spread out in the common room, half-naked, tied down and bent over one of the plush red chairs. Black hair streaming over his back- or, no, better- pulled up so each boy could grab a fistful and fuck into him on his way to and from class, maybe there'd be a line, and they'd keep tally on his arse cheek. He could have his mouth, maybe, while Remus- no, James- fucked into him- no prep, since he'd still be slick and ready and moaning for it- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sucked his teeth, having no real idea of what it was they'd said last. Still, something Sirius had said earlier was still rattling around his head, like a nagging feeling. Kept coming back to it- ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>not that he'd wanted anyone else’</span>
  </em>
  <span>. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>A slag for you’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he'd said. But maybe that was just- just words, right. Just a thing you said in the moment. But... after the moment. Huh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anyway, it's not like I want to share." Peter took a risk, just a little one, looking off at his own dorm bed, bag still flung over it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't often that Sirius felt do-or-die, like he had to jump or back away from a cliff. He was always so brash, always the one to dive head first, that moments of considering were rare. He waited a breath, a few beats of thinking of this was some sort of trick or prank. But this was Peter, Peter who was careful with his words, clever and quick. He shifted them so he was laying on his side, scooted down so he was face to face with the blond boy who kept looking away. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Sirius was </span>
  <em>
    <span>quiet</span>
  </em>
  <span>; he wasn't trembling any more, though, and that was a good thing- but the stillness was maybe worse. Peter stiffened and his throat got tight- he'd said the wrong thing, and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>touching </span>
  </em>
  <span>him and laying on him and he was probably heavy and sticky and Sirius would be regretting his decisions now. Think that Peter was... weird and soft and gay, and that he'd asked for too much- the words were already forming in his head, 'I didn't mean it' or 'oh come off it, it was a joke' or- maybe the answer would be worse, Sirius could be biting- wasn't sure what he'd say if Sirius was cruel to him. It was a ridiculous notion, after all. Why on earth would he ever want to- with someone like him. </span>
  <span></span><br/>
<span><br/>
</span>
  <span>"Ok," Sirius said, "you won't have to." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bed was small and cramped, and Sirius made a point to hold Peter tight to him as he moved, one hand moving to run over a flushed, freckled cheek, pulling Peter's gaze back to his- and Peter crinkled his nose, all ratty and perturbed and confused- because if he wanted him to leave he would just go and it would be fine and- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt too raw, and he couldn't bear this moment existing any longer, so instead he kissed Peter before he could respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Peter a moment to kiss him back, but Sirius well, he'd already decided to jump. Fingers trailed into soft, blond curls as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past shock-parted lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved his kisses to Peter's freckled cheek, right where it dimpled when he laughed. He kissed the winkle of his nose, the soft freckles of Peter's flushed face, the crease between his eyebrows that he got when he was surprised.  Wormtail wasn't flailing, physically, but he was most certainly flailing emotionally. Pressed into the kiss, the fingers in his hair; brows drawn up in an expression of helpless gay panic. Then they parted, but Sirius was relentless; pressing kisses all over his face and Peter felt hysterical, felt like he might laugh, might cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sirius!" He exclaimed, wriggling a bit- it felt ticklish, like too much attention- too sweet for them. Too candid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pads pressed their foreheads together, breathing in the warmth between them. Sirius Black prided himself on not being a coward, but of all the things he'd done this somehow felt the most....terrifying. And he'd stared down beasts and monsters and his family and been nearly killed on a number of occasions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I'm yours, if you want me," he said quietly. He swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the spikes of anxiety in him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s eyes were scrunched up, uncertain, and he couldn't stop looking at Sirius- even as close as they were, going nearly cross-eyed with the effort of it. He kept trying to find the cruelty, the humor, the joke that had to be coming next as Sirius spoke. There had to be something he was missing, some barb he was too slow to pick up on, some ulterior meaning- and even if that wasn't it, it was probably just- about sex, maybe? Didn't mean anything more than that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pff. What does that mean?" A touch incredulous, but there was hope there- hedging his bets, as always, trying to make sense of Sirius' mercurial nature. Peter wriggled in his arms and Sirius refused to let him go, even as he fought back hysterical laughter. But those blue eyes were fixed on him and he was doing what he was good at; rising to a challenge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It means exactly what I said," he answered, pulling back just enough so he could take in Peter's entire expression, watch the way his features changed. "You don't want to share me? Fine, you don't have to. I'm all yours if you want me, however you want me." He felt a little antsy, caged, but he refused to turn tail and run, refused to back down here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pete, you're the only one I wanted this whole time, the only one I thought about, the only one I missed." He chewed his lip, nervous for a moment before he tried to keep speaking. "And its not just sex, I...fuck." He couldn't do it, his face flushed and he wrenched his eyes shut. "It's not just sex with you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're having me on." Was all he could think to say, staring up at Sirius and trying not to look hurt. But it was as if Sirius could read his thoughts, answering them as he came up with them, and he felt like he was slow- like moving through a fog. They never talked about- things like that. It was just sex, and being stupid, and being mates, and chasing after James and taking care of Remus and taking care of each other... He'd never even begun to imagine- he didn't deserve more than that. Whatever more than that meant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>".... </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you having me on." It wasn't really a question, just sort of pained and uncertain; there was no pretending he didn't take Sirius' meaning, now, this time. He just didn't, couldn't believe him. But desperately... wanted to. He let his hand move from the other boy's side, pressing it down to his chest, over his heart. Like he could make sense of him that way, read him like a palmistry chart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because I'm not," Sirius said, turning his eyes back to Peter. The hand on his chest felt like a weight, pressing into his ribs and threatening to crush his heart that was hammering away inside him. And he didn't flinch, didn't pull away. He licked his lips again, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and worrying at it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I fancy you, Peter. I may be a complete idiot, and maybe I always have and am just now realizing it, but I do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter turned red, feeling bashful and stupid- but he was running out of reasons why Sirius would lie to him like that. Which left one, impossible conclusion- that he meant it. That he'd meant all of it, all the stupid things he'd said while they were fucking, and before that, and after it, and Peter didn't know; well it had to be, right, a momentary lapse in judgement. The words</span>
  <em>
    <span> 'I fancy you, Peter'</span>
  </em>
  <span>- in Sirius Black's perfect, posh accent, his voice still rough from having his throat done-over, by Peter no less, would linger in his head for ages. It rattled around in there even now, and he felt a bit dizzy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirius sat in the silence after his words, and squared his jaw a bit, preparing. This had been the fear, hadn't it? He had misread, misinterpreted- Not wanting to share him wasn't the same as wanting him. He'd put his foot squarely in his still raw throat, and now was the time when Peter was frantically searching for a way to let him down. And he'd do it gentle, non confrontational, because that was how Peter worked. His cheeks colored high, hot around the bottom of his eyes, but he'd done it. Couldn't take back what he said, and he wouldn't lie and say it was a joke. It'd be okay, he'd manage, he'd just go the rest of his life being the vapid, hollow slut the world expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would just try to turn off the part of him that would be comparing every other person to how Peter made him feel-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d been quiet too long, and Peter couldn't just. Say nothing, that wasn't an option. Was fairly certain his mother had raised him better than that. Besides, it seemed quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude</span>
  </em>
  <span> to say nothing, what with them being mostly undressed in bed together, and his spend still drying on Sirius' tie. The other boy was just looking at him, and he'd been quiet for too long, and that bordered on cruel in and of itself, and this was Padfoot, for fucksake... </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anybody would be mental-" Peter started, nervously, swallowing thickly. His voice was impossibly quiet. "-not to fancy you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if they hadn't been so close, his arms still holding them together on his twin bed, he would have heard it. Sirius had good hearing, and when Peter spoke he smiled up at him, the heat behind his eyes sparking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was his turn to be speechless, unable to form words, just letting out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Sirius was maddeningly gorgeous and he'd thought it wasn't possible for anyone to be any prettier- but there was a new heat there, a warmth there hadn't always been, had there? The joke he was waiting for, the sarcasm, the irony; it never came. It made his skin itch, antsy, feeling some phantom axe that wouldn't drop.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Pads was just... just looking at him. His own smile was much less certain; much more nervous. And then, suddenly, he couldn't just keep looking at him. They should be- doing something, right? Except- except. They'd already fucked. And. God, someone could barge in any moment. James, or Remus... but he just wanted to stay right where he was. Forever. Til he... grew roots. Sirius Black fancied him. It was insane. He felt insane. Hysterical. Might laugh- might cry. Honestly it was anyone's bet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arms wrapped around Sirius, held him so tight as Peter buried into his chest, and he felt a giddy, soft laugh fall from his lips.  It didn't even matter if they were caught, in their state of half-undressed and messy and clearly fucked-out. The room smelled like sex and sweat and both of them, and he didn't want to move. He buried his nose into golden curls, pressing a kiss into the soft curls. Peter was lost in Sirius; distracting himself in the present to not worry about the potential ramifications of any of it. He was holding him without a hint of insincerity, kissing his temple like he was something sweet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like something was overflowing in him, like he was falling, floating through air-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which, he was, and so was Peter, as they tumbled off the narrow bed from wiggling too much towards the edge. He hit the ground with a thud, laughing despite the wind being knocked out of him, not letting go of Peter. They'd pulled his blanket off with them, tangled around their legs.  Wormtail let out an "Oof" as he hit the ground, whining a bit at his crushed arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck, Peter, are you okay? I think I landed on your wrist..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Owwww." Dramatically, though he wasn't that badly injured. Then- then he was laughing, his broad, ugly laugh- snorting a little at the absurdity of the situation. Still grinning, he reached down and rolled onto his back; laying flat on the floor and tugging the blanket over them like they were cozy in bed. Staring at the ceiling for a moment before grinning back at Sirius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Sirius could roll around in that laugh, like a dog in summer grass, he would, wanted to wrap up in it, all it's bawdy, snorting, chittering glory. He loved it, loved the way it made the apples of Peter's cheeks flush and the way it brought out the uneven dimples- He had three when he laughed, two on one side, one on the other. It made a small whistling sound he was pretty sure only he could hear as air moved through the gap between Peter's teeth, and god-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was brilliant. He let himself be shifted around a little, lifting off of Peter's arm and settling next to him, curled so he was on his side, propped onto his elbow as the blanket was draped over their waists. He still had one long leg hooked around Peter's, liked the warmth and feeling of sturdy, plush thigh under him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This somehow felt perfect, lying on the floor like kids, not giving a shit if they were caught. They'd missed two classes by now, and probably well into dinner. He didn't care. He was afraid, truly, of how this would play out once they left this little bubble they'd carved out. He brought his hand to trail over Peter's chest, working his fingers under the hem of the boy's mussed shirt and pressing against soft, warm skin. Round, shy Peter, with his gapped teeth and wicked wit and calculating eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just so we're clear," Sirius said, a possessive hand gripping into the flesh of Peter's chest, not enough to bruise but enough to be solid, "I don't want to share either." Like a dog guilty with a stolen morsel, unwilling to unclench it's jaws. </span>
  <em>
    <span>-Mine.-</span>
  </em>
  <span> His cheeks were flushed, freckles in staunch contrast, as the chuckles faded from riotous to aftershocks, finally at ease enough to look over at Sirius. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy was propped up next to him, curled around him, and Pete's brows rose up just a touch in greeting. Was allowed to look at him covetously, he supposed. The paunchy Gryffindor crinkled his nose, freeing his injured arm and rolling his shoulder a bit between them- playacting the hurt as more than it was. He lifted his eyes to Sirius' face again, and blushed more fiercely- but he'd never been good at saying no to Sirius. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Crystal."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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